Page 128 of Cursed Dreams
“But that’s not fair!” Marand cried. “He, he grabbed you. You were scared. There were witnesses”
“I told her everything,” Thalia said. “About Caelum. About Vaelith. About the Temple of Kek and the Forgotten Forest. I… I laid it all out. She didn’t yell. She didn’t scream. She just looked at me like—like I was some lost cause. She told me to go back to my dorm while she thinks over what I’ve said.”
The others were stunned into silence for a moment, trying to process it.
“And if she doesn’t believe you?” Nyla finally asked, her voice soft.
“Then I’m gone,” Thalia said. “But even if she does… Vaelith won’t let me stay. He’ll push me out. Or worse.”
“We’re not going to let that happen,” Cellen said firmly, pacing now. “We’re in this with you. All of us.”
“We’ll figure something out,” Marand added, squeezing her hand. “You’re not alone.”
Thalia looked around at her friends, their fierce unwavering loyalty didn’t hide the fear in their eyes. She wasn’t alone. Yet she felt it.
Chapter 31
They refused to leave her side. Even as the sun dipped low and the warmth of the lamps cast long shadows across the dormitory walls, her friends remained close. Cellen had insisted on making her tea with too much honey, as always, and handed it to her with a wobbly smile that barely hid the fear behind his eyes. Marand had brushed her hair gently, her touch soothing as she whispered calming nonsense and tidied the space around them in that quiet, comforting way she always did when she didn’t know what else to do. Nyla, sharp-eyed and furious on her behalf, fussing with blankets and muttering how the temple had no idea what they were losing. Thalia offered small smiles, tried to thank them, but the words stuck in her throat. Her limbs felt heavy, her chest hollow. The comfort helped, but the ache within her still gnawed relentlessly.
When Cellen and Marand finally left, whispering promises to return early, Nyla remained.
“Move over,” she said gently, nudging Thalia beneath the covers. “You’re not sleeping alone tonight.”
Thalia didn’t argue. She couldn't. She curled in on herself as Nyla slid in behind her, warm arms wrapping around hermiddle, holding her close. Her body shook with the quiet sobs she tried to hide, her breath hitching against the soft fabric of her pillow. Nyla didn’t say a word, just held her tighter. As the room dimmed and the last of the hallway lights faded, Thalia stared into the darkness with burning eyes. Her heart felt torn, her mind spinning with fear and anger and the terrible ache of helplessness. She had never felt more afraid of losing everything she had worked for, including any chance to save Caelum.
Please, she thought desperately. Please let him come to me. I need him. I don’t know what to do. She longed for him to hold her. She let the weight of exhaustion pull her under, praying her dreams would bring him to her. But they didn’t, instead, the morning came far too soon.
A sharp knock on the dormitory door jolted them both awake. Thalia sat up fast, breath caught in her throat, Nyla groaning softly beside her and blinking blearily at the interruption. The knock came again, firm. Purposeful. Nyla reached for her robe, already on her feet, exchanging a wide-eyed glance with Thalia. Someone was here to take her away, sadness swallowed her.
The door creaked open, revealing Miryanne. Not a hair out of place, her temple robes crisp and pristine despite the early hour, and her expression… triumphant.
“The High Priestess requests your presence in her office. Immediately.”
Thalia’s stomach dropped. The air seemed to grow thinner around her.
Nyla pushed in front of her, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “It’s barely dawn. What in the—”
“You’ve been summoned,” Miryanne cut in sharply, eyes like frost. “And I suggest you don’t keep the High Priestess waiting.”
Thalia was already moving, heart pounding as she slipped into her shoes and threw on her robes. Her fingers fumbled with the clasps, her limbs heavy and slow, like she was walking to the gallows. Nyla brushed a hand against her arm as she passed, a silent gesture of solidarity.
Miryanne turned and led the way, her pace brisk and efficient, her silence loud. They walked through the quiet temple corridors, the morning light just beginning to filter through the high stained glass windows. Shadows stretched long across the tiled floors, the occasional priestess gliding silently past them. No one spoke, but Thalia felt their eyes. Whispers prickled at her back. She was still the centre of gossip after the argument with Vaelith, and now, everyone knew she was being summoned again. Soon they would know she had been expelled. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, heart thudding wildly in her chest as they passed a pair of younger students who quickly lowered their heads and pretended not to stare. But she felt their scrutiny. Miryanne seemed to revel in it.
They reached the tall carved doors of the High Priestess’s office. The soft golden symbol of Amara glowed above it, catching the early morning light in delicate rays. Thalia paused, reaching for the door handle, her hand trembling slightly.
Just as she pushed it open, Miryanne leaned in.
“I thought better of you,” she said quietly, her tone smooth and cutting. “Truly.”
Thalia flinched, her breath catching, but she didn’t respond. She couldn’t. She stepped into the room, head high despite the panic clawing at her chest. The door clicked shut behind her.
The High Priestess Elara stood by the window, her long robes trailing across the tiled floor like morning mist. Sunlight filtered through the stained glass, painting her silver-streaked hair in hues of rose and gold. She looked tired. Weary, even, but there was strength in her posture, and when she turned to face Thalia, her gaze was steady. Compassionate.
“Sit, Dear.”
Thalia obeyed, clasping her hands tightly in her lap to stop her from nervously fidgeting. Elara studied her for a long moment, the silence stretching like a string pulled taut. When she eventually spoke, her voice was low and even.
“I did not sleep last night.”
